Draco Malfoy and the Department of M.A.R.
by Chyna Rose
Summary: Join Draco as he explores the dangers and rewards in his new job working for the Department of Magical Artifact Retreval.


Her black hair hung strait to her shoulders Michelle Strauss Normal Michelle Strauss 2 1 2001-11-12T01:19:00Z 2001-11-12T01:19:00Z 3 688 3927 SUNY Cobleskill 32 7 4822 9.3821 

Draco Malfoy and the Department of Magical Artifact Retrieval

Chapter One; Draco Malfoy I Presume

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I apologize for the Digimon references.  I can't seem to get my mind away from that.  I do not apologize for making Draco relatively not evil.  I honestly feel that, while he was a bully, he wasn't really a bad guy.  Plus I find it fun to mess around with such concepts as 'good' and 'evil'.     

Her black hair hung strait to her shoulders.  She wore a pair of blue jean shorts and a black tank top with the picture of a red print Chinese dragon on the front.  She stared listlessly at her jade colored nails.  She sat in the corner of the café, a small mug of coffee or tea sat on the table forgotten.  She stood out; with no wand or robe apparent and the exotic body of the orient.  My father would have a fit if he knew I was associating with someone like her- but then he didn't exactly approve of what I was doing anyway.

I ordered a glass of lemonade and approached her.  My pale gold hair was tied into a ponytail with a simple strip of leather.  I wore a light weight black robe with my wand in its inside pocket.  She seemed totally unimpressed as I made my way over to her.  I sat down across from her, and she looked at me coldly.

"Malfoy Draco, I presume?" she said in a lilting voice that seemed unfit for the language she spoke yet did not stumble over the words as often happens.  Her cool green eyes bored into me with a reptile's patience.  Despite the heat, I shivered.   

"Draco Malfoy.  And you are…" 

"Ichijouji Jade." She was unnerving to say the least.  And although her darkly painted lips never wavered from their firm and emotionless setting, I could feel that she disapproved of me greatly.  It was the way she drank in my wizardly attire; mentally compared it to her own muggle dress.  She did nothing as course as sniff in distain, but I could feel that, had she been a lesser person such as my mother was, she would have.  She stood tossing some change onto the table, and grabbed a leather satchel that I had not seen before.  "Coming?" was all she said, offering no explanation for her abrupt departure.

I chugged the rest of my lemonade, and blankly followed her.  She led me to a small flat at the edge of the residential district.  It stood out from the other flats nearby it.  The small bit of lawn in front, was largely made up of small gray stones rather than grass and a few scattered trees.  At the beginning of the walkway, sat a stone dragon next to a small pond.  A pat and a few quiet words got us past her stone guardian. (still she never took out her wand.  **If** she was carrying one at all) When we got to the front door, she took out an actual **key** to open it with.  In all my years (and probably those of my father's) I have never seen a witch (or wizard for that matter) act so much like a… **muggle**.  It felt embarrassing, but what could I do?

The inside of her flat was pretty sparse from what I could see –which was one room.  And unlike most wizarding homes, it was as big as it looked from the outside.  Her fireplace (a must for any wizard or witch since the invention of flue powder) was clean and unlit.  There were a number of bookshelves lining the walls –all full, and a small rack for scrolls.  A simple wooden table sat under a bunch of shelves.  Various artifacts littered both the table and shelves.  A small tree sat on an end table in front of window, while a pile of black and gray stuff occupied a corner –right in front of a small couch.  She put her satchel absentmindedly on the table, and dragged the wooden chair there to the couch.  She gestured for me to take a seat and I did.

"What **is** that?" I asked, pointing to the pile of stuff in the corner.  

"That, is my entertainment area; television, stereo, and VCR.    I also have a laptop computer that I use to help me with my work.  It comes in so handy." She explained.  And to my embracement, I realized that I didn't know anything about what she was talking about; other than that they were muggle items.  Then it all began to fall into place; the cloths, the lack of a wand, the muggle artifacts…

"You're a muggle." I said blurted out, unable to stop myself.  She glared at me with such coldness that I had to suppress a shiver.

"I can assure you, Mr. Malfoy, that I am a fully trained witch.  And I can plainly see why I was assigned to you."

"What's **that** supposed to mean?"

"Mr. Malfoy, it means that you have a lot to learn.  My job is to acquire magical artifacts that have fallen into muggle hands.  I am one of the best in my field.  And as such, it is often up to me to train new operatives such as yourself."

"In other words…"

"I am going to have to teach you how to pass for a muggle."  


End file.
